One Fine Day

The rain is falling. That is not an accurate account of the current situation. There is rain, lightly sprinkling which barely wets the surface which will inevitably stop each and every droplets descent. Then there is rain, the type unleashed by a storm so powerful it begins to threaten the existence and permanence of everything in its path.

This is the latter. Normally I love this weather, particularly watching it through the window, as the wind howls and the droplets form solid jets of water flying horizontally in a resemblance to the static interference on old analogue Televisions.

Normally however, I would be surrounded by solid walls, under a solid roof, simply enjoying the show. I feel underdressed for the conditions, wearing a light grey suit I had purchased while on holiday in the Bahamas a few years prior. Shivering as the wind cuts through the drenched layers of thin material, I breathe a sigh of relief as I enter the building lobby of my destination. The warm flow of air beginning to thaw my body once more.

It's a Friday, just after lunch and I'm running fashionably late for an appointment with a large client's CEO, as I have to deliver a weekly report on a software implementation my company has been contracted for. This implementation has been ongoing for the last 6 months, so I find myself on familiar ground as I step out of the elevator into the 40th floor lift lobby. I marvel at the excessive grandeur each time I visit, dedicating an entire building floor to just two people is not something I will ever get used to. Stepping out of the elevator, my shoes squeak & squelch on the marble floor as I approach his personal assistant's desk leaving a trail of wet footprints in their wake. I'm greeted warmly with a smile and barrage of questions about how my week has been and how bad the weather outside has turned.

I can't help but feel a little sorry for her, she always seems so bored and eager to have someone to talk too when I visit. The entrance to her boss' office sits another 10 odd meters past her desk and the heavy wooden doors remain closed all day long, effectively leaving her isolated. I will often try to arrive early for my meetings just to talk & bring a smile to her face. From what she has described, the boss hardly gives her enough work to do to fill the first 30 minutes of the day, so even an incoming phone call becomes exciting. I endeavour to answer all her questions & probe her with a few of my own, buying me valuable time to admire her.

Sitting in front of me, is a bubbly personality called Anna. I'd estimate her to be in her early 20's, around 5'2", and 50kg. She is slim and toned all over, with a fair complexion and long red hair running the length of her back. Today, she is dressed in black knee-high boots. There is some kind of patterned stockings visible just over her knees, before a light grey and slightly less than knee length skirt travels up to her hips. A thin red cotton jumper is keeping her warm, and there is a white blouse underneath, just poking out of the neckline. My thoughts are interrupted by her nodding towards the door behind, "he's expecting you".

We play this game. I am capable of letting myself in, but always prefer to watch her walk in front of me. She knows it, and never misses an opportunity to put on a good show.

"Lead the way." I smile from ear to ear and swing my arm around in a grand gesture towards the door. Her hips swinging side to side as she walks, with her skin-tight skirt revealing the type of underwear she is wearing simply from where the material creases across her perfectly toned behind.

It's a high-cut set of panties today. Excellent. I politely thank her for letting me in, before whispering sternly "That will be all" as she pulls the door closed between us, barely able to contain a giggle.

Turning around, I see her boss, Mark, is on the phone. He gestures toward an empty seat in front of his desk. Hanging my jacket on the coat stand near the door, I quietly do as ordered. Mark is a big man, he's somewhere in his late 40's, early 50's. I am not a small man, at 6"2' I would dwarf the majority of people I see on a daily basis. He stands much taller than I do, based off my own height he would be around about 6"4', maybe even 6"5'. He is a well built, very fit man and always has a perfectly maintained haircut. I've never seen a trace of facial hair since I met him, and I idly think he looks more like he belongs in the military rather than in a business suit.

Setting my folder down on his desk, I begin flicking through it while I wait, to familiarise myself with its nonsense. It's loaded with this week's reports, pages and pages filled with project timelines, cost breakdowns & budget estimations that were up to date at the time I left the office. About now, it would be worth pointing out that I shouldn't even be sitting here. If it wasn't for the fact that he ripped apart 4 previous project managers in as little as the first 4 weeks, I would never have met him. I'm not a project manager, nor do I have any desire to become one. I was sent as a stand in, while my company were looking for someone to head up the project, and he took a shine to me for some reason. The end result is that they have left it to me to keep him appeased.

By the time he's put down the phone, I'm bored with the contents of the paper in my hand, and push it across the desk to him.

"Here you go..." I start with, and begin giving him a detailed run through the project this week. We've had some obstacles at the start of the week, pushing the budget out a little as several pre-delivered components were deemed to be not fit for purpose, and custom modules were written in their place. He is studying the figures hard, but I want to bring his attention back to the bottom line as I walk around his desk and stand next to him. Pointing to the bottom line to highlight that we'd reduced costs elsewhere to bring it in as close to target as possible. He understands, but still doesn't seem overly happy. I don't know whether it's this week's overview or the phone call he was on when I arrived, but he doesn't seem his usual cheerful self.

Opting for a change of tact in order to cheer him up, I sit myself down on his leg, facing away from him, but towards the report. I shuffle around a little, with my own legs on either side of the one I'm sitting on, pressing it against the underside of my torso. I adjust his arm so it's around me, before laying back into his shoulder and continuing with my run down of the past week. I hear the familiar sound of his lips parting as they break into a smile, I know how much he likes this.

He listens to me talk and let's go of the report, leaning his chair back and pulling more of my weight onto him. The arm that was around me, angles downward so that his hand now rests lightly on my thigh. Warmth radiates through the thin material of my suit pants and I squirm a little as he flexes his finger into a fist. Slowly & deliberately, his fingers begin to stretch out, casually brushing across my thigh, mere millimetres below the line of the boy-leg underwear I'm wearing. Attempting to continue with my overview as his hands wander over my body, I soon find myself struggling. The hand on my thigh slowly rubbing up and down, travelling lower on every push, and higher on ever pull, playfully lifting the leg of my underwear higher with each stroke. His other hand untucking my shirt from my pants before slipping it inside, up over my stomach and across my chest.

Every word is getting harder to recite as my concentration is stretching thin, the hand which was on my thigh rubs firmly across the steadily growing bulge in my pants. Throwing the report onto the desk as his hand undoes my zipper and slips through the fly of my pants, rubbing me gently over the top of my underwear. I can feel the pleasure begin to build, subconsciously pushing my hips upwards harder into his hand in a desperate bid to be released from my cotton restraint. Mark eagerly obliges, locating the top of my underwear and pushing his hand inside. The sensation of his cool hand rubbing across the soft shaven flesh at the base of my stomach, causes a quick gasp to escape my lips.

His hand probes further, I feel his fingers follow the lines of my stomach, deliberately detouring around my rapidly hardening cock, and grazing over the soft flesh underneath my balls before taking a firm hold of my now throbbing erection. Pulling it free first of my underwear, and then out of my pants, he begins to slide his hand slowly up and down the length of my shaft. My hands reach for balance as I let my weight rest back against him, succumbing to the increasing rhythm of his experienced hand, expertly manipulating the sheath of skin with each stroke, covering and then uncovering the glistening head of my hard-on as I wither around on top of him.

Breaking free for just a moment, I climb off his leg and turn around, using my knees to push his legs together in the process, and building myself a new seat as I settle down onto his lap. Bending forwards my lips search for his as my hands begin to make up for lost time, pulling his tie free and unbuttoning his shirt. His hands grabbing my ass and grinding me against him, before reaching back to undo the last remaining button of my pants.

The last few weeks, he was soft and sensual. Establishing a connection with me that I never thought would be possible with another man, he'd spent hours caressing, massaging, and then slowly sliding in and out of me. This time though I can sense it was going to be different as he seemed stiffer, more reserved. Reminding me of the weeks that led up to the soft sex, I could tell that this time I would soon be getting fucked senseless. In that thought I was suddenly very happy that I had spent my morning preparing & stretching myself, only removing a certain large steel plug minutes before leaving for this appointment. You see, I don't regard myself as being huge, but I'm not small either. Mark on the other hand is huge. A size which reflects his gigantic frame, he has an easy inch and half on me, and is significantly thicker too.

I hungrily finish getting his shirt undone and continue onto his pants, sensing the urgency in his movements and eager to get him naked as soon as possible. We both rise to our feet, letting our pants fall to the floor, shedding our underwear and our shirts as quickly as possible. His hand wraps around my shaft and he uses it as a handle to pull me in hard up against him, so that the tip of my erection is resting against his stomach as he resumes his gentle stroking. I place my hands around his neck as I move in and kiss him once more, my tongue exploring his mouth as my hands run down his hairless torso. Following the lines of his almost picture-perfect stomach, before coming to a rest on the base of his erection.

I clasp him firmly with one hand, beginning to stroke the full length of his shaft, the other reaching underneath to rub his balls with the palm of my hand, my fingertips deliberately gliding back and forth along the small patch of skin behind his balls, grazing over the hole at the rear randomly to make him pulse in my other hand. He's fumbling with me in his hands and I can tell he's enjoying it. I drop to my knees and lick my lips, before taking the tip of his erection into my mouth. He's so big that I can only barely get my lips around the head without it causing me to choke, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all as I massage the underside of the tip with my tongue, eliciting a few delicious drops of pre-cum to let me know I'm hitting the spot.

It only continues for a couple of minutes, as he reaches down and hoists me to my feet. I know what he wants but I like the way he man handles me when he's this much on edge, so I just stand there and wait. Opening the top drawer of his desk, he pulls out a bottle of lubricant, setting it down on the table top. He leans in and kisses me once more, his hands running down my sides and onto my hips, before lifting and turning me in one swift motion so that I am bent over his desk. My face and chest pushed into the leather table top, with my exposed ass is in the air in front of him.

Hearing the pop of the lube containers lid, I brace myself for the cold sensation. A sharp breath escapes my lips as his fingers smear lubricant around the entrance, and then push inside of me, trying to get as much liquid covering the soft delicate flesh as possible. While he continues to finger me slowly, he's busy lathering his head and shaft in it too. I feel the familiar press of his erection as his fingers slip out of me, slowly but firmly applying pressure to my hole until it begins to accept him. He needs to take it easy in me for the first few minutes, to give my body a chance to stretch. Easing in and out of me, he begins to feed more and more inside. The first 4 - 5 inches slip in easily, but the remaining few take a little bit of warming up as he pushes through the next muscle barrier, almost burying himself to the hilt. I relax into his rhythm, the full length of his erection slowly sliding in and out of me. It feels amazing, it's stretching me, filling me completely and making my body start to convulse in time with his rhythm. I squirm and push back into him as the convulsion starts to build and his thrusting increases its pace. Neither of us noticing the little white light of his laptop's webcam blink to life.

With his hands planted on my hips, Mark takes full control, holding most of the weight of my lower torso in the air while he's pushing and pulling me into each thrust. The rhythm steadies and he's moving quickly now, slamming into me with an unstoppable force for what feels like an eternity. I can hardly stop my head from banging into his desk, let alone anything else.

My cock is straining at the skin which contains it as it thumps against the side of the desk, like a beating drum. The tip begins to glisten with pre-cum as it mercilessly slaps against the cool wood, amplifying the waves of pleasure which continue to build inside of me. I'm panting and sweating as Mark continues to pound into me, and I can feel it begin to take its toll on his strength as well. As his arms begin to give way, he lowers me slightly and the change of angle mercilessly hits the spot, making my eyes roll back into my head. Again and again he thrusts until he pushes me past the point of no return. My breathing stops, and my whole body begins to convulse. The spasm starts in my groin, clamping my ass tight around the invading cock, spreading outwards like heat radiates, my legs stiffen and my stomach muscles quiver as I lose any control I still had over my own body.

In one final thrust, he skips a beat and pushes hard against my pulsating insides while they try desperately to throw him out, it overwhelms him too as I feel the sensation of hot cum erupting inside me. He collapses in exhaustion, pinning me down with his weight as he lays on top of me. Minutes pass and our heavy breathing starts to subside, neither of us wanting to move. We're only brought back to reality as his subsiding erection slips out, and we pick ourselves up off the desk and begin to dress again.

Slipping my underwear back on, I head for the private bathroom to mop up the sticky mixture of cum and lubricants that are dripping down the inside of my legs. When I return, I can see that Mark's a little worse for wear, and he's lying down on the couch, ready to fall asleep. I bend down and give him a deep kiss, saying so much more than the simple 'Thanks' I whisper as I finish dressing and head for the door, quietly tiptoeing away so as to let him fall asleep.

Apparently too quietly though, as Anna is down on all fours and recoiling from the door as it swings open. I look at her in shock, and she is frozen in place with a look of fear in her eyes as we both realise she's been sprung attempting to see what has been going on in the office behind her. I hesitate for a moment before offering her a hand to get up, she accepts it and I pull her to feet.

Holding her hand tightly, I carefully steer her backwards towards her seat. I'm caught by the image on her screen, she is connected to the webcam in Mark's office. I see the extent of what she knows, the picture currently streaming from his laptop shows a nice view of his desk, his chair and the cityscape outside. I'm stunned speechless, realising that not 10 minutes ago, she would have had a close up picture of me being pressed into that very same desk and fucked from behind.

"Did you like the show?" I ask, nodding towards her PC screen. She spins back towards her desk and responds by hurriedly closing down the stream, the expression on her face is one of sheer terror. Instinctively I move to comfort her, stepping in behind her and placing my hands on her shoulders, gently rubbing up and down her arms. She struggles to answer.. "It was exciting..." her voice becoming wobbly with the words. Knowing she needs to calm down, I quietly sooth her and reassure her that I won't tell Mark. Sensing that she is beginning to calm, I transition my hands from a comforting rub, into a firmer massage, engulfing her shoulders with my palms and fingers.

Next comes the inevitable statement, "I didn't realise you were gay". It was more of a statement than a question, but I opt to answer it anyway, leaning forwards so my mouth is next to her ear. "I'm not actually". Timing my fingers perfectly with the sentence end, they twist around the bra straps I had located through her clothes and tug firmly from her collarbone upwards, making her bra lift and squeeze her breasts in the process. She shudders as it hits its mark, I know this is completely overwhelming her.

Continuing on I attempt to explain. "I'm bisexual. I find both sexes attractive and able to fulfil different needs." The irony of my words does not elude me, acutely aware of just how 'fulfilled' I am right now.

"Really? Both Sexes?" her eyes wide and her voice filled with disbelief.

"Yes." I lean back onto the desk, giving her some reprieve from my hands momentarily. Having listened too many of her stories from club filled, alcohol fuelled weekends, I know she lives the party girl life, so I decide to take a gamble and press on. "Think of it like this, I'm sure in the past you have probably kissed a girl. More than likely you even had your hands all over her body while you kissed. It may not have lasted very long, but I'd even go so far to say it would have left you longing for more..."

"But, that's different!" She interjects, confirming my suspicion without a second thought.

"Why? Because you're a girl?" I reply. Her mouth opens, but no words come out. I can see her mind is racing, thoughts turning over faster than the wheels of a race car, but yet she is unable to answer.

Minutes pass as she ponders in silence. I decide to provoke her once more, "The only difference between us, is that I know what I want."

"I know what I want!" her reply most objectionable. I smile to myself, quite pleased she took the bait.

"Do you really? Show me." I clasp her knee and pull, turning her chair towards me and bringing it closer in one fluent motion. Hesitantly rising to her feet in front of me, Anna looks a little unsure of what to do next. Offering both hands to hers, I spread my legs apart a little and pull, bringing her close enough that her breasts are mere centimetres from my chest, but not quite touching.

"Show me." I repeat again, this time not louder than a whisper. Her chin lifts in response, and her lips slowly raise to mine. The kiss that follows is hesitant at first, our lips meeting awkwardly, a small peck followed by another, each longer than the one before. The sweet taste of her lips vaguely reminding me of a cherry flavoured dessert that I can't quite put my finger on. A quick flick of the tongue and it electrifies into a deeper, open mouthed, lip tugging kiss. With stiff, probing fingers my hands slip around her waist all the way to her lower back, pushing hard into her flesh as they move. She doesn't resist, or maybe the overwhelming situation has left her unable too. I feel her breasts squishing against my chest, and her stomach coming to rest lightly against my crotch as her weight shifts into me.